What's that smudge on your face?

 

When Traditions Look Strange

Not long ago, someone unfamiliar with high church liturgical practice was walking down a city footpath and noticed something odd. Dozens of people had dark smudges on their foreheads. No one seemed embarrassed. No one was trying to wipe it off. They simply went about their day — catching buses, ordering coffee, heading to work — marked.

To the uninformed observer it looked strange. Was it dirt? A protest? Some kind of public statement?

Of course, it was Ash Wednesday — a solemn beginning to Lent. The ashes symbolize mortality and repentance: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” What looked unusual was, in fact, a centuries-old act of humility.

I read about a flight attendant aboard a long-haul 747 who grew concerned when she saw a man standing near his seat wrapping leather straps tightly around his arm and forehead. The black box positioned above his brow looked foreign and alarming. She moved quickly to intervene.

But the passenger was an Orthodox Jew praying the morning prayers, fulfilling Deuteronomy 6:8: “You shall bind them as a sign on your hand and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.” The leather straps were tefillin, not something dangerous — but something sacred.

In both cases, devotion looked strange to the outsider.

And that raises an important question:
What do we do when someone else’s tradition makes us uncomfortable?

The Double-Edged Nature of Tradition

The word tradition can make some Christians nervous. After all, Jesus rebuked religious leaders for elevating tradition above Scripture. “Why do you yourselves transgress the commandment of God for the sake of your tradition?” (Matthew 15:3)

Tradition becomes dangerous when it replaces God’s Word, burdens consciences beyond what He requires, or fosters pride. But Scripture does not reject tradition outright. Paul writes:

“Stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught.” (2 Thessalonians 2:15)

Traditions can preserve memory. They can embody theology. They can train the heart. They can pass faith from one generation to the next.

Ashes speak of repentance.
Tefillin represent covenant faithfulness. Passover preaches redemption. Communion preaches remembrance. Tradition itself is not the enemy. The misuse of tradition is.

Why We Misjudge What We Don’t Understand

When we see something unfamiliar in a religious setting, our instinct is often suspicion.

We protect what feels normal to us. We question what feels foreign. We sometimes judge what we don’t comprehend. Yet much of what looks strange is simply someone else expressing devotion within their own inherited story.

To a first-century Roman observer, baptism would have looked odd. To a pagan neighbour, the Lord’s Supper may have seemed bizarre. To a secular modern eye, fasting looks extreme. Devotion, especially embodied devotion, rarely looks ordinary to outsiders.

The problem is not that traditions exist. The problem is how we respond to traditions that are not our own.

Romans 14: A Theology of Mutual Respect

Romans 14 is one of the most liberating chapters in the New Testament when it comes to differing traditions among sincere believers. Paul addresses disputes over food and special days — matters that stirred strong emotions in the early church.

He wrote, “The one who eats is not to regard with contempt the one who does not eat, and the one who does not eat is not to judge the one who eats, for God has accepted him.” (Romans 14:3)

Notice the two dangers: Contempt and judgment.

Contempt says, “You’re foolish.”
Judgment says, “You’re wrong.”

Paul dismantles both by reminding us: “Who are you to judge the servant of another? To his own master he stands or falls; and he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand.” (14:4) That sentence alone could heal many church divisions.

The issue is not whether we would choose the same practice. The issue is whether the person is acting for the Lord. Paul continues: “One person regards one day above another, another regards every day alike. Each person must be fully convinced in his own mind.” (14:5)

And then the key principle: “He who observes the day, observes it for the Lord… he who eats, does so for the Lord, for he gives thanks to God; and he who eats not, for the Lord he does not eat, and gives thanks to God.” (14:6)

Motivation matters. Gratitude matters. Lordship matters.

Two Takeaways

1. Learn to Appreciate the Traditions of “the Other”

Before dismissing a practice, ask:

• What story is this telling?
• What Scripture stands behind it?
• What spiritual discipline is it forming?
• What memory is it preserving?

We do not have to adopt every tradition to respect it. Appreciation is not the same as participation. Ashes may not be your practice — but they proclaim repentance.
Tefillin may not be your custom — but they proclaim embodied Scripture. Humility begins with curiosity.

2. Embrace the Spirit of Romans 14

Paul grounds everything in the Lordship of Messiah: “If we live, we live for the Lord; or if we die, we die for the Lord; therefore whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.” (14:8) And again, “For to this end Christ died and lived again, that He might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.” (14:9)

Traditions are secondary.
Lordship is primary.

If someone is acting from sincere conviction, giving thanks to God, and seeking to honor Him, we step carefully before criticizing. We are not the Holy Spirit for other believers.

A Final Thought

To the passerby, ashes look like dirt. To the anxious stewardess, tefillin look alarming. But to the worshipper, they are acts of devotion.

Perhaps the next time we encounter a tradition that feels unfamiliar, we might pause before reacting. We might remember Romans 14. And we might ask ourselves: Is this person doing this for the Lord?

If so, humility — not judgment — is the proper response.

 

 

What is a "covenant of salt?' and what does that have to do with Jews and evangelism?

 

Salt, Covenant, and Witness:  A Jewish Framework for Evangelism

I.              Introduction: Recovering a Jewish Metaphor

Modern discussions of evangelism often revolve around method—programs, persuasion, apologetics, or cultural engagement. Sometimes they revolve around personality or venue. I am often asked what is “the best way to share Messiah with Jewish people?” I love the biblical juxtaposition of chapters 3 and 4 of the Gospel of John. There we see contrasted:

A woman     A man

Socially shunned (at the well)     Significant: a rabbi

Daytime (midday)     Nighttime

Yeshua approaches her     Nicodemus approaches Yeshua

There is not a simple and singular method for evangelism. One must be led by the Spirit of God. Beyond method and personality, and within the Jewish Scriptures and rabbinic tradition, a far older metaphor provides a deeper framework: salt.

Salt in Jewish thought is not merely culinary; it is covenantal.

When viewed through Torah, Temple practice, and rabbinic interpretation, salt emerges as a symbol of permanence, as well as loyalty, wisdom, and sacred preservation. Against this backdrop, Yeshua’s declaration, “You are the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13), becomes profoundly Jewish—and profoundly missional.

Jewish evangelism is best understood not as innovation, but as covenantal preservation: living and speaking in a way that embodies the enduring “salt” of God’s covenant. 

If it were up to all the enemies of the Jewish people, there would not be a Jew alive in the world today. If Haman or Hitler or Pharaoh had their way, we Jews would not exist. God in his mercy salts the world with us, and salts us, preserving us against all odds. 

II.             Salt in Torah: The Covenant of Permanence

The foundational text appears in Leviticus:

“Every grain offering of yours, moreover, you shall season with salt, so that the salt of the covenant of your God shall not be lacking from your grain offering; with all your offerings you shall offer salt.” – Leviticus 2.13

Salt here is mandatory. No offering may be presented without it.

The phrase “salt of the covenant” (מֶלַח בְּרִית) suggests that salt functions symbolically within Israel’s covenantal relationship with God.

Two additional passages reinforce this idea:

God’s covenant with the priests is called a “covenant of salt.” (Numbers 18.19)

The Davidic kingship is described as given “by a covenant of salt.” (2 Chronicles 13.5)

Why Salt?

In the ancient Near East, salt symbolized durability and loyalty. Because salt preserves from decay and resists corruption, it became a natural metaphor for permanence. A “covenant of salt” implied an enduring, binding agreement.

Rabbinic tradition deepens this meaning. The Sifra (Torat Kohanim on Leviticus 2:13) links salt directly to covenant permanence, noting that salt never spoils and therefore symbolizes an unbreakable bond.

Salt, then, represents:

• Endurance
• Fidelity
• Preservation
• Incorruptibility

From the outset, Israel’s covenant identity is inseparable from this preserving function. 

III. Salt in Rabbinic Thought: Creation, Judgment, and Wisdom

A.   Salt and Creation

The Talmud (Menachot 20a) connects salt with creation itself, teaching that when the waters were divided in Genesis 1, the lower waters wept at being separated from the divine presence. God comforted them by promising that salt (drawn from those waters) would be placed upon every altar. Rashi explained that the ‘covenant of salt’ refers to a promise established during the six days of Creation, where the lower waters (oceans and such) were assured they would be included in the Tabernacle service through the salt on the altar and the water libation on Sukkot.

Also, according to halakhic interpretation, while a sacrifice lacking salt is generally still considered kosher, if the salt is omitted from a grain offering (mincha), it invalidates the offering.

This striking midrash accomplishes two things:

• It ties salt to cosmic covenant.
• It locates salt permanently in sacrificial worship.

Salt thus becomes a bridge between creation and avodah (the service of worship for Jewish people)—a reminder that the covenant touches the entire cosmos.

B.    Salt and Judgment

In Scripture, salt also appears in contexts of judgment (e.g., Sodom, Genesis 19; the “salt land” imagery of Jeremiah 17:6). Rabbinic literature recognizes this dual symbolism: salt preserves, but it can also desolate.

Salt preserves what is living—but reveals what is dead.

Witness functions similarly. It both preserves truth and exposes decay.

C.   Salt and Wisdom

The sages also used salt metaphorically for wisdom.

The Ethics of the Fathers records (Pirkei Avot 3:17):

“If there is no Torah, there is no proper conduct; if there is no proper conduct, there is no Torah.”

Some rabbinic commentaries compare wisdom to salt: a small measure enhances, but excess ruins. The Talmud (Berakhot 5a) associates suffering, covenant, and salt, suggesting that covenant depth—like salt—comes at cost.

In later Jewish thought, “seasoned speech” became synonymous with measured wisdom.

Thus, salt in rabbinic literature conveys:

• Covenant endurance
• Sacrificial loyalty
• Measured wisdom
• Moral preservation

IV. Israel’s Missional Calling: Preserving the Knowledge of God

The biblical literature of the Prophets consistently affirms Israel’s outward-facing purpose:

“I will give you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations.” (Isaiah 42:6)

“That My salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” (Isaiah 49:6)

Israel was not chosen for isolation but for representation and for bringing God’s love, mercy, covenant and blessings to the peoples of the world.

Within Second Temple Judaism, Jewish communities in the Diaspora functioned precisely this way—preserving monotheism in pagan societies. Synagogues became centres of ethical monotheism that attracted “God-fearers” (see Acts 10:2, 13:16, 43)

Jewish existence itself was preservative.

Israel’s faithfulness maintained the knowledge of the One God in a polytheistic world. That preservative function parallels the symbolism of salt.

V. Yeshua’s Declaration: “You Are the Salt of the Earth”

When Yeshua declared to His Jewish disciples, “You are the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13), he is invoking covenant language deeply embedded in Jewish consciousness. He is not introducing a new metaphor. He is bringing Leviticus back to mind.

The implication is not “You are morally flavourful.” It is “You are covenant carriers in a decaying world.”

A warning follows. “But if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men” This would have resonated considering Israel’s historical struggle with covenant faithfulness.

Salt that loses its distinctiveness no longer preserves. So too, covenant identity diluted by assimilation or other forms of unfaithfulness loses its witness

VI. Paul and Seasoned Speech: A Rabbinic Echo

Paul’s instruction is “Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6). I believe this fits squarely within Jewish wisdom tradition.

The metaphor aligns with rabbinic sensibilities:

• Speech should enhance, not overpower.
• Wisdom should preserve truth.
• Words should provoke reflection, not coercion.

Evangelism divorced from wisdom contradicts the salt metaphor. Salt persuades by presence, not pressure. 

VII. Implications for Jewish Evangelism Today

If salt is the governing metaphor, Jewish evangelism must be:

A.    Covenantal, Without Cultural Erasure

Jewish witness rooted in Messiah does not lead a Jewish enquirer to abandon his or her Jewish identity; it fulfills covenant continuity. We are ever Jewish, and this also might include congregational affiliation. Any erasure of our identity is counter the salt motif. 

I remember seeing a diorama in Tel Aviv in 1983. Perhaps it is still in place in the Museum of the Diaspora. It showed a scene at a plaza with some messianic Jews (Yehudim notzrim) on one side and some church people (in robes and a large cross on a pole) across the plaza. The churchmen were calling to the Jewish believers to leave the past, leave their community, and bear the cross. This continuing misunderstanding of the role of Jewish believers as Jews has only hurt the church and has seriously damaged the evangelism of Jewish people from the earliest season of the community of faith.

B.    Preservative, Not Combative

The goal is to preserve the knowledge of God—not to dominate discourse. And to include all the continuing revelation of God even through Messiah, his Son, whom he “appointed heir of all things, through whom also he made the world.” (Hebrews 1.2) The Torah isn’t the end; Prophets and Writings carry on; they are not the end of the Word either. The Brit Hadasha (New Testament) is in God’s economy to preserve. 

C.   Wise, Not Strident

Like salt, witness must be measured. Too much overwhelms; too little disappears. While their elemental forms are indeed lethal, as dsodium metal is explosive and chlorine gas is toxic, they are essential for basic survival. Of note, is that we can die from too much chloride: It is the most abundant negative ion in your fluids. Its roles include digestion and cellular function. 

Similarly, sodium is vital for the transmission of nerve impulses and muscle contraction. It regulates fluid balance and blood pressure. 

The "Salt" Paradox

In nature, these two "deadly" elements bond together to form sodium chloride (table salt). This bond stabilizes them, turning them into a safe and necessary nutrient. While most people consume too much, a diet with absolutely zero salt would be fatal.

D.   Distinct, Not Assimilated

Salt, when it is diluted into its environment, ceases to function correctly. Jewish distinctiveness remains central to Jewish witness. 

VIII. Conclusion: The Salt Has Not Lost Its Taste

Salt in Torah, Temple, and rabbinic thought symbolizes covenant permanence. It speaks of loyalty, wisdom, and sacred preservation.

Jewish evangelism, rightly understood, is not a departure from Israel’s calling. It is its extension.

To bear witness as a Jewish believer in Messiah is to live as salt:

• Preserving covenant truth
• Embodying faithfulness
• Speaking with wisdom
• Remaining distinct

The world does not decay for lack of noise. It decays for lack of preservation.

And preservation, in Scripture, has always required salt. And that salt which is required is the salt of God’s covenant with the Jewish people. 

A final thought about those grafted in.

 The Gospel is for the Jew first, and also for the Greek! (Romans 1.16) God used the Jews to salt (preserve) the world. At the same time, he preserved the Jews by his faithfulness. In the same way, he will continue with the widened covenant people of God, the Church. He is faithful to all who trust in Yeshua. No wonder the apostle said, “He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 1.6) And again, “Faithful is he who called you, and he will also bring it to pass” (1 Thes. 5.24)